Jack W Spicer
by Velvet Underside
Summary: Jack wakes up one day with a penchant for anger and a craving for blood. How does he react when he finds out he is to be the next horseman of the apocalypse? Based slightly off of Jackie Morse Kessler's War. Don't own XS or War. Just this parody. Some Chack later on.
1. Chapter 1

Jack was at it again. The jack-bots had been malfunctioning, and once again the self-proclaimed evil boy genius had thrown himself into a river of unrestrained anger, punctuated by the careless throwing of his wrench into the nearby conference screen, causing it to crack.

"Oops," said Jack, cooling down, strolling towards the device and removing the wrench, "Can't be too violent."

Jack did not know the causes of these particular bouts of rage. He didn't know what triggered it. All it took was a moment, a blot of annoyance or a pinch of irritability, and something would fly through the air, crashing and eventually breaking.

And there Jack would be, fuming, face slightly blushed, brows furrowed in a dangerous scowl.

"Jack? Jackie dear, are you feeling alright?" his mother called.

Jack, running open-gloved fingers through his striking red hair, called back, "Yeah, mom, just fine."

He could hear his mother's stilettos clap against the floor as she walked away, muttering on about how Jack's 'little tantrums' worried her _sick_, and god, should she get a counselor. . .?

He shook his head to clear the rest of the burning anger out of his head. The whispering flames of rage now departed still licked against his skin, and Jack shivered. It was just the jack-bots, not that big of a deal, right? So why, all of a sudden, did he feel like he was about to just. . . . _just_ _blow the hell up_?

'Damnit, Spicer, you aren't the incredible Hulk, are you?' he thought, and of course that was impossible. If anything, his Hulk-form would be a bloody red.

'_Heh. . . . . . blood. . . . . . __**blood**_. . . . .'

God, that was _exactly _what Jack needed right now! Hidden deep in his mind, a certain someone whispered in his ears about rivers and fields of blood, rushing and warm and unbearably, blindingly red.

He sunk into the images of pure brutality, of bodies littering the streets, and he, amongst it all, king of it all, orchestrating the world into a deep, screeching abyss of drowning darkness, painting the streets, the sidewalks, the buildings and the forests and the trees; decorating the animals and people and all his thoughts and doubts and fears into a blissful, crimson, _RED_.

Coming back up again, he leaned against his work table, alarmed with sweat dabbing at his brow. Where in the hell had that _come from? _

He looked around his lab, glancing at all the piled jack-bots and the tools and his goggles, all strewn about in his basement, hoping the answer would just pop out at him, because damn if he didn't need it right now. . . . . . . .

Jack took a deep, shaky breath, and went upstairs to his kitchen to grab a pudding cup from the fridge. Slamming the door shut, he turned around and saw the glorious form of his idol, Chase Young.

"C-Chase! Chase, hi, what are you doing hear?" said Jack, trying to cover up the fact he was more than a little bit shaken at Chases impromptu visit.

"Come, Spicer, I require your presence."

"Well, see Chase, the thing is. . . . . ." and the unspoken promise of ultimate torture and death glittered in Chase's eyes should Jack ever try to defy him.

Jack gulped and said, "Yeah, sure, Chase. Let's go."

And they disappeared out of Jack Spicer's home and into the grandeur of Chase Young.

"And here," said Chase, "are the Xioalin monks."

Jack gasped in half-delight, half-awe at Chase's accomplishment.

There they all were, Kimiko, Omi, Raimundo, Clay, and that slippery drago known as Dojo, all trapped in a giant box, unable to be seen by either of them.

"You brought LeMime back into the picture?" questioned Jack, glancing at his partner in crime.

"LeMime was never 'in the picture'. I needed him, he wanted revenge. I gave him power, he gave me this." said Chase, gesturing to the trapped and angry Xioalin monks.

"What happened to him?"

Chase sneered at him. "Guess, Spicer."

And suddenly the raw and exposed smell of LeMime's blood beckoned to him. Oh, hell, he was turning into a frickin' vampire. . . .but it smelled so. . . . .God, at this moment, he wanted, above all, to have something cut open, making an exhibit of their innards, and smelling the aroma of freshly spilled blood. . ..

"Jack. . . Jack, you insect, Get off of me!" said Chase, and with a blush, Jack realized he'd been leaning on him, in a daze.

"S-sorry, Chase. . ."

Wiping his arm, Chase said, "Don't let it happen again."

He hoped it wouldn't. He really hoped it wouldn't.

* * *

Thanks! Short First Chapter, but I wanted to get this show on the road. There may be Chack later on, I don't know. But for now, review!


	2. Chapter 2

As the day progressed, Jack felt his anger decrease to a dull throb in the back of his mind. Chase led him through the dark corridors of his home to a room lit only by soft, thick candles. Lining the walls were scrolls, old and tattered and withering into dust.

"Chase, why are we here? You said I could _never_ come to this room. Why the sudden change of heart?" he asked, gazing amongst the nameless rolls of scripture.

"You. . . . you needed to be here." Chase answered, pinching the bridge of his nose. Jack noted the stress lines forming on his forehead. It suddenly occurred to him Chase had been at what Jack called his 'touchiest' all day. There were no words exchanged as Jack came closer to the heylin prince and stroked his cheek.

Chase snapped to attention, and Jack visibly shrunk back from him.

". . . Jack. . ."

"Hmm?" said Jack, looking directly into Chase's reptilian eyes. Somehow, Jack could see the beast writhing inside of him, desperately wanting to break free from his prison of flesh.

"Don't. . . .don't touch me. Ever. Again."

"Why? Have I committed some great crime from touching you, Chase? I think I'm entitled to do so."

Chase looked abruptly shocked his audacity, and then let his rage swallow him as he picked Jack up by his collar and flung him against the wall, managing to knock down a shelf of scrolls in the process.

"Oof!" grunted Jack, as he fell forward from the impact.

Chase, with a speed faster than light, approached the red-headed genius and snarled, "The likes of you will _never_ have what is entitled to me. Learn that lesson well, Jack, before it gets you killed."

"And what makes you think you'll kill me so easily?" said Jack, and there was something in his voice that suggested that Jack was not Jack at all, but something much darker and psychotic, something that could only be heard amongst the screams of the damned.

"Damnit, has it happened already?" muttered Chase.

"Oh yes," a now threatening Jack answered, "it happened long before you were born."

His eyes were darker, Chase noticed absently as he went into his fighting stance. His eyes were not the mischievous, playful kind of ruby red he was so used to seeing, they were threatening. Jack was baiting him.

And the thing _inside_ of him meant to send Chase to an early grave.

"Ah, no, none of that fancy Kung-fu bullshit. Just you, me, and a bit of heylin magic, eh?" said possessed Jack, wagging his finger at Chase like a naughty child.

A sudden burst of black light erupted from Jack's hand and flew towards Chase, who blocked it instantly and shot out with a wave of fire gathered from the lit candles. Jack, reeling from the onslaught of flames, waved them away and growled, stomping towards Chase, blocking every attack the warlord threw at him. He then grabbed Chase by his collar, spun him around and watched as his body flew out the room.

Chase landed on the other side of the hall, breaking through it almost, in pain and unable to move. That spirit had done something to his body, something he could not place in the haze of his mind.

He could hear voices down the hall, faintly shouting, ". . . . . Alright guys, let's move. . . . .get the wu and lets go. . . . fire?. . . ." and a sudden shout of 'Orb of Tornami'! And the hall was suddenly flooded with cold water. Chase actually moaned at the turn of these unfortunate events, but it was not over yet.

Chase heard the click of Jack's boots down the flooded hallway. The foolish Xiaolin monks had attracted his attention. There was no getting away now. For him, at least.

Chase took hold of Jack's ankle and pulled, causing Jack to trip and fall on his face. No matter what happened, Jack was still the same bumbling genius he'd always been.

"Oi. . . . .it seems my new skin does not fit me yet. Shall I take yours?" evil-Jack teased, getting up and giving Chase a swift kick to the stomach before dusting himself off, seeming completely dry.

Chase, feeling himself grow weaker and weaker by the minute, moaned, "Release him."

"No, Chase," said the thing inside of Jack, "He needs this. He's needed me for a long time now."

Chase's eyes shot wide open. Was he saying that Jack was. . . .meant for this? The poor fool could barely fight! It was only his genius that saved him—wait. Something so powerful should belong to himself. But was there something Jack did not want him to know? Something he'd been hiding? Maybe Chase had been underestimating him all along. How could he have been so foolish! So blatantly _stupid_?

Jack was Chosen. The spirit had told him this and he didn't listen. Jack did need this. But he couldn't let go, not now. It was safe to say Chase felt something for his apprentice, a sort of fatherly feeling which mellowed into something deeper. Still, he was an insect. An annoying, whining insect. But _his,_ nonetheless. And Chase would never have what was his taken away from him.

"Let go, Chase," the spirit said, "You haven't been taking care of him. None of these mortals have taken care of him. Jack was unprepared for my entrance. And now you all will pay the price in blood."

And Chase faded deeply into oblivion, the smell of coppery blood trancing through his nostrils as the Xioalin monks screamed, sending him into a pit of nightmares.


	3. Chapter 3

Chase woke up in the same, shuddering oblivion he fell into, except this abyss was filled with a blinding light. He squinted in irritation and cast a hand over his face to shield himself from the light. As he tried to sit up, he felt a sharp jab of pain sprint up his spine, jump into his shoulder blades and finally plummet gracefully into his stomach, causing him to double over in agony. Chase bit his cheek to keep himself from crying out.

He would not show the monks his apparent weakness. They must be nearby; he could smell the scent of wind-user in the other room, if there was one. And then he could smell blood, thick and warm, and he lay back down. Somehow the smell had his stomach doing cartwheels in his body.

Ugh, where was he? Sitting up more carefully so as not to hurt himself, he rubbed his eyes and looked around. He lay on a small, cotton cot in a room with a window that poured light on his face. The room was mostly bare, save a dresser, a lamp, and a small closet.

It was then Chase heard a sound. Someone's footsteps, he believed. But whose?

"Ah, Chase Young. I see you've awakened." Master Fung said with approval.

"It would seem so." Chase quipped. "Perhaps you will explain to me why I'm here, of all places."

Master Fung looked at him in that mentoring way he often did, and Chase wanted to slap him. He was _not _a child.

"You were terribly wounded. The safest place we could bring you was here at the Temple."

"And that explains the bandages." Chase eyes the gauze wrapped thickly around his torso and arms.

Master Fung looked at him once before asking, "So you remember nothing?"

Chase let the confusion frame his face as he said, "Of what?"

"Oh." said Fung.

Suddenly a voice came running down the hall followed by a, "Master Fung, Jack's up. And cranky as hell, I might add. Damn, even my sores have sores!"

"Yes. Good news. See to it that Jack's bandages are changed. He is in for what you might call a 'rude awakening.'"

"Aw, hell! Why do I have to take care of the little—"

"Raimundo." Master Fung warned sternly.

"Fine. But don't expect me put to sleep when he starts bitching again. Augh, _shit._ . . . . . let me get out of here. ." said Raimundo, and the wind-user started down the hall uttering more obscenities.

. . . Jack? What was Jack doing here? What happened to bring him here?

Chase, with plenty of effort, lifted himself from the cot, shooed away Master Fung with a clipped order to 'move the hell out of the doorway before I waste you', and followed Raimundo's scent down the hall.

What he found shocked him quite a bit.

The monks, especially Raimundo, were bandaged from head to toe. Kimiko sported claw marks on her left cheek that had yet to heal while Clay had a nasty, blue-purplish bruise on his arm and wrists. It looked like someone tried to tear them apart.

Chase silently chuckled. Maybe Jack was of use after all.

Speaking of which, the goth moaned tiredly as though waking from a long nap, twisting and stretching on his cot.

"Damn, what the hell happened? Do I have a hang-over or something. . . . . . Chase!" he exclaimed, and clutched the dragon-lord tight around his middle.

"Jack, I do not know what has made you so brave, but if you do not remove your limbs from my injured torso, I will rip them off."

"Nah, it's pretty comfortable right here."

And déjà vu burned like a brand on Chase's skin. Where had he seen this before?

"Jack. _Move._"

"Alright, alright already. Sheesh. From the way you act, one would think you were having a cycle." said Jack, dusting himself off.

Chase glared, and Jack shrugged and said, "You should be used to this by now."

Ohhh, this was _too_ familiar. Chase grabbed Jack's arm and squeezed.

"Okay, okay! I'll be quiet now."

Ah, back to the old submission. "Jack, do you have any idea of how you got here?"

"Uh, no. You?"

"I. . . I do not remember."

"Hey, wait. I remember now! You took me to the room with the scrolls and the candles and the weird secrecy."

Scrolls and candles, scrolls and. . . candles. . . . . . . . . Aha! He remembered the scrolls and candles. It was all coming back to him now. The scrolls and the candles. . . . Jack touching his cheek. . . .oh, god, and then the fire. . . . and Jack's eyes. . . . .good lord, his eyes. Those were not his eyes. They belonged to—

"Greetings, Chase. I hope you are feeling well." came a small, bald, yellowish monk named Omi.

Chase nodded. Omi was about the only one he could tolerate out of them.

"Oh, and you, too, Jack! You must be very good at healing. You looked like you had a major butt-kicking!" said Omi, smiling just a little too widely for Jack's taste.

"Yeah, I know. When's lunch? For some weird reason, I'm starving!" said Jack, rubbing his stomach.

Chase was still so deep in thought, he did not hear Jack call his name.

"Yes?" he answered impatiently.

"You. . . . you alright?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Now go eat. I wish to be alleviated from your presence."

"Ha! Fine. Bye, Chase." said Jack, and he followed Omi out of the room.

Chas noticed an odd sort of smile tugging at the corner of his full lips. What happened to the clumsy, eccentric Jack he once knew? Chase noticed that Jack stood a bit straighter instead of slouching as usual. His eye had that same childish admiration for him, yet it was now tempered by a sort of mischievous manipulation. His quips often surprised him, and for once Jack could actually be considered a genius.

His eccentricity never wavered, though. His sudden interest in the psychology and dominations of certain mammals proved that. Chase could feel Jack growing on him, from a small seed of a boy to a dangerous and formidable rose that was his to admire, to have. But did he want him? Like this? Getting up from his short meditation, he made his way to the rest of the monks.

* * *

He sipped his tea lightly, noticing how the sky suddenly changed from an innocent blue to a heavy, brooding grey, lingering in the sky like a growing grudge match. He must be approaching soon.

"So guys, I've been thinking—" started Jack.

"That's possible?"Kimiko teased.

"Shut up, you sound worse than Wuya. Anyway, although the food is nice and all, why am I here?"

Silence filled the table as thunder rolled into the distance, beckoning them to thicken the tension.

"So you don't remember, huh?" said the wind-user, crossing his arms gruffly.

"Remember what?" said Jack.

"You don't remember how far back you bent Clay's arms to the point where he had tears coming out of his eyes? You don't remember how you almost clawed my girlfriend's face off? You don't remember how you literally bashed Omi's head into a wall so hard it broke? Hmm?" by now the angered wind-user was standing and shouting into Jack's face.

"W-what? No! I don't remember doing any of that!"

"Oh yeah? Well you'll sure as hell remember this—" he threatened, and his fist cocked back dangerously, ready to be released.

"Damnit, Rai, calm down! Jack wasn't himself!" defended Kimiko.

Rai turned on her and said, "What do you mean, 'not himself'? From what I saw, he was damn happy about it! And you expect shit like this to just fly by, huh?"

"Don't make this about me, Rai. Now either you sit down and let someone explain this _maturely,_ or I'm slapping you into next week!" she threatened.

Rai sat back down and simmered with rage at the confused red-head.

"Jack, you were. . . . . you weren't yourself. You were—hell, Jack, it's like you were possessed! We didn't know how to reach you at all. So we fought. And what you're looking at is the result."

"No. No! I mean—how could _I_ do something like _that_?" Chase could immediately sense Jack's apparent and appropriate guilt, and he almost sneered. They shouldn't have underestimated him like that. He was mentoring under Chase Young, after all.

Deciding to fill in the next wave of silence, Chase said, "The fire-monk is correct. Jack was not himself, but what he was meant to be."

"So—so is this another one of your little schemes, Chase? Only you could be this depraved—"

"Silence, Raimundo!" Chase interjected. "This is not of my doing. Jack was Chosen to house the spirit of aggression from birth. One of the Four Horseman."

"Spirit of aggression?" questioned Omi.

"Yes. His name is—"

And the doors to the Xioalin Temple were suddenly blown off their hinges as a figure stood in the threshold.

This man radiated a certain presence that demanded respect and utter submission. He was built yet lean, and tall, about three inches taller than Chase. The eyes reminded Chase of his short battle in the forbidden room, and shivers ran up his spine. His hair was long and splayed about him like the jagged edges of a knife. He reeked of blood and death and destruction. He reeked of battles long past and war songs overflowing with the hopes and fears and prayers of those fallen in battle. To Jack, he practically oozed passion and unrestraint, something Chase couldn't truly indulge in or appreciate. His eyes reminded Jack of his own, yet tainted with crimson sins and wildness. Jack could not, no matter how hard he tried, tear himself away from the horseman's gaze…

"War. Yes, Jack, it's me. Come keep me company. I'm going to be inside you for a while."

* * *

**Someone tell me they caught the inplications of that last line. I cracked up over it ;) Anyway, i hope you enjoy this new chapter. I slaved over it SO MuCH. So don't forget to review. Thanks for those who've added this to their favorites and subscriptions. It helps alot. **


	4. Chapter 4

"Alright, this has just gotta be some sick joke. The guy looks like a mental patient. Give him a straitjacket. He won't hurt _anyone._" Raimundo announced, folding his arms and scoffing at the horseman.

"I would advise you not to lie to them, Raimundo Pedrosa, but that would take the fun out of ripping you in half, from that tight little ass of yours to that pot of shit that rests on your shoulders." his voice reminded Jack of speeding, silver bullets penetrating the warm flesh of some innocent bystander. And oh, could he never see anything more clearly than a fool who tried War, splayed about in chunks of desecrated flesh, still cooling amongst the river of blood War stood in.

It felt so good, Jack subconsciously wrapped his arms around his torso.

The rest looked scared shitless at War's unplanned visit, watching the exchange between War and Raimundo and hoping that the chips did not fall where they should've. If they did, Raimundo would be so much less than flesh. War would grind him into nothingness. Jack knew this, and a small part of him didn't care.

Was he embracing the monster already?

"Jack. Come keep me company." War repeated.

The rest watched him with cautious eyes, as silence both engulfed the room and kept it breathing. Jack wished he could keep breathing, but he was too scared to think, let alone move. What were they thinking? What was _he _thinking? Actually half-proud that he would soon be something as formidable as War, ha! He was just a scared little boy playing with fire, who would eventually be burned—

_Stop._

And Jack did not know whether War said that or he did, but nonetheless the fear shed itself like snake-skin, and the confidence returned like an armor around his heart. Jack walked over to War, stood directly in his face and with clipped, stabbing precision, he said, "What the hell do you want?"

"Oh, yes. He's the one. I approve of you, Jack. Since birth I have approved. You will make a fine Avatar—"

"_ENOUGH!"_ Chase shouted. He wouldn't dare see Jack handled as nothing more than the next new skin. "You WILL step away from the boy, and you _WILL_ leave what is mine alone!"

"Or what?" War taunted, tracing Jack's cheek lightly. Jack trembled in response.

"Or I'll rip your throat out." The dangerous calm never left Chase's face as he stated his threat: touch Jack and die. Jack was honestly flattered by Chase's possessiveness, but War and he were meant to be one, from what Chase had said.

"That's bullshit, Chase, and you know it. You cannot touch me."

"Why don't we test that theory?" said Chase, readying into battle stance.

War searched his eyes. Apparently the fool had lived for 1500 years, and thought himself above such things as defeat and death. Well, thought War, it's time for a crash course in both.

Jack felt the tension growing in his stomach like a newborn child. For god's sake, he didn't want them to fight. If he tried to stop War, he would kill him. If he prevented Chase from avenging his honor, he would never forgive him.

Both fighters stopped abruptly, and then began attacking each other. The clashes were almost instantaneous as one was so close to gaining leverage over the other. When it seemed like War would clash with Chase for the final time, Master Fung stepped in between them with a surprising roundhouse kick, which they both blocked easily.

Master Fung, in a frightening trance, murmured, "_I call upon the spirits of tranquility resting within the earth to combat its most opposing force. I call upon wind, fire, water, earth to trap this foe deep into an abyss in revenge for the blood spilled in his pleasure. . . . . . . "_

All around him, pinpricks of light grew and pulsed and intensified between his palms. The light threatened to break free of its containment, yet Master Fung pushed on. Soon the light did break free, and encircled him in a double-helix formation, pulsing brighter until it consumed the entire main hall.

"Goddamn, that there's one hell of a light show." commented Clay.

"Yep," agreed Dojo, "Never doubt the Fungster's skills. Although that war-dude gives me the heebie-jeebies. . . . . . augh, man. . . . . .!" he shivered.

Kimiko pointed as Master Fung with awe in her eyes she exclaimed, "Dude, is that guy floating?"

And he was. Master Fung floated higher and higher into the air, and the warlord and the horseman both had a feeling of what was about to happen. Master Fung suddenly exploded into a barrage of light, eyes glowing golden in the climax of power. The rays struck Chase into the waterfall while War was thrown against a nearby wall. He noticed his skin beginning to sizzle.

"Abei!" he called out, and suddenly a woman materialized beside him. Her hair was just as red, just as sharp, and her black lips were plump and inviting. She wore a dark-blue traditional kimono, which framed her body well. In her hands, she held a large, blue hair clip, glinting almost dirtily with the name War.

"Yes, War?" she answered, her voice portraying immense boredom.

He gestured to the activity above him. "Handle that for me."

Chase, arising from the rubble and water, glanced at the conversation and called out, "You have a woman fight your battles for you? How pathetic."

War smirked evilly and responded, "She is no woman, you imbecile."

Abei smirked, and then let out a terrible shriek of anger as she flew towards Master Fung, latched on to his neck with her newly grown fangs, and both of them plummet to the ground, breaking the floor beneath them as they struggled. Master Fung fought valiantly, blocking her many kicks and punches, but to no avail, because she threw his near-unconscious body towards the monks. Clay and Raimundo reached out and caught him.

"Take care of that." she said. The Xiaolin warriors glared at her, and then at War, who was the start of all of this.

"Come on, you guys, we gotta help him!" said Kimiko.

"Why the hell would we help the evil, dragon, Heylin warlord Chase Young fight the very spirit of aggression. Come on, Kimiko, think! He's the physical manifestation of battle. How are we supposed to fight that?" said Raimundo.

"When we work together, we should be able to defeat anything that stands in our way. Let us give him major kicking of the butt!" Omi piped up confidently.

"It's butt-kicking Omi. And yeah, let's do this!" Kimiko said.

"I'm in, partner." said Clay.

And they rushed off to fight with Chase against the most powerful foe any of them had ever faced.

Jack looked at the chaos above him. War was tearing them a new one, and still they fought. They could've fought for anything they wanted; peace, tranquility, an end to a thousand years of darkness. But Chase was fighting for him. For once, Jack didn't want world conquest. He didn't want to see his enemies ground into dust, he wanted them safe. He wanted Chase safe.

And so Jack yelled loud enough that the very heavens shook, "_**STOP!**_"

As even time stopped, Jack felt the world collapse on his head once again, and he fell unconscious.

* * *

His palace was a mess. He had long since evacuated his cats from the area, claiming he didn't need them any longer, and instead used the service of mind-controlled humans. They picked up and shipped the debris from place to place, mending the walls together and cleaning the floor of blood and pieces of wall. War sat still, hands folded over his chest, legs crossed and eyes closed. The servant, Abei, brushed the tangles out of his hair while War leaned back against her.

"This is not right, you know." Abei commented sourly.

War cracked open one blood red eye and said, "What would I care for what is right? I am War. That is the only thing that matters."

"And Jack? You say he is special. Is he, or is he just another avatar? You always need new skin. _Always_." and her gentle brush strokes became harder and more sharp against his scalp.

"If I did not know any better, I'd say you have a problem with it."

"I do, War." said Abei, her tone rising just slightly. "Lord, I just think—"

"And that is the problem. Don't think. No one told you to think."

"I can think if I damn well please, War! This is NOT how things were supposed to go! You can't stop fighting. Not even to obtain the trust of your avatar!"

"Trust is weakness."

"You trust me." Abei's voice became small and forlorn. "You always trusted me."

"You are my First. You WILL NEVER fail me. If you had, I would've done away with you thousands of years ago." War stated.

Chase's eyes were closed tightly, trying to block out the sound of War's thundering voice as he made strained conversation with his servant. Chase could sort of connect the dots by now. Any other day, Chase would've thought eavesdropping petty and immature. Today was a different day.

"Bring them in, War. It's time to face the music." Abei said softly.

War scoffed and tilted his head towards her neck. "Silence, Abei."

And she complied.

Chase now knew there was no reason for him to approach Jack and the monks in a certain way. Was he really that impatient to have Jack as his avatar? Gods, yes. He could feel the desperation melt off him in waves. The need for him was strong. But Chase wouldn't give him up so easily. Let War starve.

As if by some unopposable force, the Xiaolin warriors, piled in to the large room with the bandaged and conscious Xiaolin sensei in tow. Chase couldn't help but notice the large gauze that kept the blood from gushing out off his neck. He should've died from a wound like that. Master Fung must be stronger than he looked.

Abei asked, "Who is your leader?"

"That would be Master Fung, the same guy you tried to take bite out of." Kimiko replied snippily.

Abei replied with a sheepish smile and said, "Yes. I. . . .I apologize. That wasn't meant to happen."

"Apology not accepted. I, for one, am damn sick and tired of hearing what is meant to happen. He could've _died, _but that's fine because you're sorry. Right. Thanks." Kimiko walked away from her, simmering with anger.

"Master Fung. You know certain procedures must be accounted for in binding a horseman to his avatar."

Master Fung sat up and said, "Yes. But not Jack."

"Jack doesn't have a choice. He was chosen at birth for this." Abei replied somberly.

"Not him. Jack doesn't need that kind of stress. War would tear him apart."

"Ugh!" Abei said indignantly. "Maybe War was right. None of you mortals have taken care of him. Not even Chase Young. Jack needs this. War will not find another."

The monks gasped. "And I suppose you're sorry for that too, huh?" Kimiko commented.

Abei growled.

"Kimiko. . ." Master Fung warned. "Jack is our friend, regardless of his involvement with Chase Young. We have allied together against the dark forces of Wuya and Hannibal Bean. What if War turns him into something he does not wish to be?"

"Then he will just have to deal with it." said the horseman in question. He rose from his seat and stretched his limbs, yawned, and walked over to the two.

"I won't let him do this."

"Hmmm. . . .so you care, do you?"

"We all care." said Clay, surprisingly. "Care about him more than you do right now."

The other monks nodded in agreement.

"Do you care?" Raimundo asked, already anticipating the answer. He'd been aching to punch the smug bastard in his face.

"Do I care? Yes. More than the sun, the moon, the stars. I would not have wasted years upon years of waiting for him to come of age if I did not care."

Raimundo was appropriately shocked at the answer. The other monks looked at him, almost fascinated at his new choice of words. War could care? Chase was almost tempted to scoff. But irony being the bitch that it is. . . . . . .

"Promise me then." spoke Master Fung. "Promise me you will not use your power to harm him or any of us until the two become one."

"Do you know what you are asking me to do?" War said through hooded eyes.

"I am not asking you to give up being War. You could never do that. I am asking you not to use the power of War."

"I don't think I could." War said almost detachedly.

There was a short cough by the door and there stood the red-headed goth in question. He wrapped his arm around himself tighter and gazed deep into War's eyes.

"You care, right?" said Jack. It was almost an embarrassed whisper in the air as Jack told him those words.

"Jack, no, you don't have to do this. You don't have to be bound up by that monster." Raimundo said.

Jack ignored him.

And War replied with the cruelest smirk he could muster, "Yes. Master Fung, I accept your terms."

"No!"

And the deal was done.

* * *

**Alright, even I gotta admit: This chapter is super-duper long. Bu damn, did i like reading it. And writing it. Especially that. Anywhosenmyer, read and review. Do it. Seriously. **

**Love You! **


	5. Chapter 5 part 1

They sat around a wooden table, one glaring unwaveringly at the other, arms clasped around Jack's waist so tightly he felt his stomach constrict almost under the two's tight grip. War and Chase were having a showdown, the clash of reptilian green against carnelian red enticing the tension between them into an almost palpable force. He could taste their jealous hatred of one another on his tongue. Enough was enough.

"Alright, you two!" said Jack, breaking the silence, "Can you please stop acting like five year olds?"

"Tell Chase you are mine before I kill him and we shall have no further provocations." War childishly answered.

"As _my _apprentice, you shall do no such thing." answered Chase with equal fervor.

Jack sighed and drug his fingers across the landscape of his pale skin.

"Jack, just let it go. They won't stop unless you give in." yawned Kimiko, slightly amused at the situation.

"Who knew lords of war and chaos could bicker like spoiled brats with a new toy?" he muttered.

Jack stood up, wrenching his body away from the two villainous creatures and walked out of the Temple, whistling as he did so. The day lost its somber mood in return for a near-blinding sunshine, with the sky catching its own reflection in a nearby pond, shimmering pure and blue. Jack had never been so happy for daylight in all his life!

Kimiko followed him out shortly after watching the horseman and the warlord sit in shock and disbelief, followed by stuttering disapproval of, '. .. . . . _did he just .. .'_ and finally settling into another bitter silence that had Kimiko rolling her eyes in annoyance. Finding Jack sitting by the pond, Kimiko dropped to his side and gazed at the fish swimming freely, oblivious to the conflict around them.

"So, Jack, know anything new?"

"Yeah." responded Jack with a non-committal grunt.

"What?"

"Never get Chosen for something you nor your sensei can approve of. You end up with bitchy lizard men, battle-lusting spirits and plenty of mixed signals."

Kimiko snickered, surely imagining what would happen should Chase or War hear that particular train of thought.

"Well, you should be pretty comfy right now."

Jack glared at her.

"Oh, come on!" said Kimiko, waving her hands, "I know you've thought about it. Why not work this towards your advantage?"

Jack sighed. "I can't. Chase would be on to me, War would probably kill me regardless of our "bond" or whatever, and three, aren't you supposed to be a monk?"

Kimiko cleaned non-existent dirt from her fingernails as she said, "Yeah, but even I need a few things."

Jack played with the possibilities in his mind. Really, the list could have been endless had he not been feeling considerate. He was an _evil _boy genius for Pete's sake! And Jack's conscious was further shaken when Kimiko said, "They both want you."

"You jealous?" he teased.

"Naw. I've got Raimundo. He's all the man I need."

"Doesn't seem like much to me."

"Jack. . . ."

"Kidding! I'm kidding, okay." Jack put his hands up in surrender. "You shouldn't be jealous anyway. God, I feel so damn confused! Chase went from the ultimate evil doer to a pain in my ass. I wasn't even considering what War could give me. And come to think of it, I don't care too much for him either."

Kimiko snorted. "I can tell."

"Help me?"

"What the hell do you think I'm doing? Listen; why don't you take them out somewhere?"

What? Where the hell could he possibly take them when they'll try to kill each other anyway?

As if reading his mind, Kimiko answered, "Someplace they can stand on common ground."

"And you're all for common ground, huh?"

"Jack, damn it, shut up!" Kimiko ground out.

Jack simply stared off into the distance, wondering how the both of them could even co-exist. Chase, compared to War, was a piece in the overall puzzle of battle. A very, very important puzzle piece, if War wasn't mistaken. Chase wished to plunge the world in darkness; War wanted to see it all blow up in flames. Damn the pieces, the puzzle, the entire game of life! War was War, end of discussion. But Jack could tell Chase cared for him. Wanted to_ protect _him. What would it feel like to have his hands, those sharp claws of his, run across his body in a heated caress? To have his lips against his own, melting into his mouth as he moaned—

"Jack!" shouted Kimiko shouted impatiently.

"Huh?" he responded, a faint blush tingeing his cheeks. He hoped she wouldn't notice.

Kimiko did seem to notice as she stood up and crouched beside him, "Take a walk. Take it slow. Help them to co-exist. They'll have to."

Jack gaped at the fire dragon. How did she know?

Kimiko read him again and said, "You're not very subtle about it."

He was Jack Spicer, evil boy genius. He didn't do subtle. And this "outing" wouldn't be subtle either. He'd go in, give them his demands—

An expensive something clashed against the wooden walls of the Xiaolin Temple. Hopefully the whole damn thing wouldn't collapse—

. . . .Right after he let them calm down. Yeah, that's it. It's not like he was _scared_. .

* * *

Clay watched the two amusedly as they glared at each other once again. They quarreled worse than himself and Jessie on a good day; it would be amusing to see the two in a knock-down, drag-out. Ever since that little bonding thing between Jack and War, he'd been keeping an eye fiercer than a rattlesnake on the evil rider. Or was he a horseman? Maybe when all this evil business was over, he'd challenge the villain to a horseback competition. He'd have to pull out all the stops, though. This man was meaner than his Aunt Maggie before Christmas!

* * *

As silence crept back into his ears from listening in on them, Jack crept slowly inside. Both sets of eyes turned to him. The tea had gotten cold, yet War clutched his cup firmly in his hands. He noticed the way his tea swirled without a spoon; what was he thinking?

"Hello, Jack. How nice of you to join us." Chase said offhandedly.

"Yeaaah. . . . .about that. . . ." Jack began, twirling his thumbs together. After a moment of three-way staring, Jack took a seat at the table.

War placed a red, open-gloved hand on top of Jack, a single gesture of affection as he said, "Did you clear your head?"

"Why? Should I have. . . . cleared my head?" said Jack, snatching his hand back as though it burned.

"Yes." War said, his silken voice ringing in Jack's ears. He glanced at him once more, then took a slow sip of his cold tea, smirking innocently. If it could be called that.

Chase huffed and said, "We must be getting back to my home, Jack. Your lack of training has made you weaker."

"Hey! It's not like I'm taking a break here. Due to unforeseen circumstances, we are here. I've been practicing the best that I can. Come on, Chase, lay off—"

Chase threw a fist to Jack's face, and he was lucky he dodged the attack; it happened so fast. Springing back up from his matrix, he grabbed Chase's wrist, twisted, and sent a knee to his teacher's abdomen. Chase blocked easily by shifting his weight to the side and pushing directly against Jack's arm. He felt something in his shoulder pop, and suddenly his arm was a dead weight, waving gently to the side.

"God_damn it, that hurt!_" Jack shouted, clutching the dead weight and poking it cautiously.

"You see? Weakness. Any other time you would have blocked that attack."

"I—I just wasn't ready, that's all." Jack sniffed.

"And that will be enough." War said, standing and touching Jack's arm lightly.

Jack felt the pain in his arm melt away, and he raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"Are you sure you're War?"

"Yes, Jack. I am fairly sure." he replied, immensely annoyed at the question.

"You just healed me."

War chuckled. "No, Jack. I am passionate chaos. I simply amplified the feelings in your arm. You can feel it now."

Jack wiggled his arm experimentally, and upon discovering that it was totally fine, he sheepishly muttered, "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"So, is there something you wanted to say?" Chase said.

"Well, if this whole War thing goes through. . . . . .you know you'll have to cope with this, right?"

"Cope? I cope with nothing. By then you will not require what I have to teach you, Jack. You will be my enemy."

"But it doesn't even have to be that way! We could still be master and apprentice. You just have to trust me."

Chase set his tea cup down so sharply against the table, it clattered loudly.

"When have I trusted anything? An enemy is an enemy. A friend is an enemy. This is my rise to power. I will have nothing in my way. Trust are for the weaklings that will bow and scrape at my feet."

War raised his now hot tea and said, "Amen."

Jack unknowingly knew how Abei felt in that one moment.

The boy genius then worked up his nerve and said, "Come keep me company."

The two, strangely without complaint, got up and followed Jack out the door.

* * *

The path they walked on was peaceful, unhindered by the evil presences that surrounded the gothic genius. Jack led the way, followed by Chase and War closely behind like two hulking shadows. The boy took this moment to breathe and let his troubles ease off him as he closed his eyes and stretched.

"Tired already?" Chase commented.

"No." said Jack.

"So War, did you have any other people before me?"

War seemed to smile wickedly at his fondness of his past lives, while Jack coughed self-consciously.

"Yes, there have been many before you."

"Tell me about one."

War thought for a moment.

"I don't think I should."

Jack sighed. He should've known this would be harder than he thought. Around the three of them, plants, grass, trees, any type of nature melted into the blackness of the earth, unable to live again.

"Does anyone hear a rumbling?" Jack said. He looked around.

The sky turned dark with fog, and the three closed in on each other. They each felt something welling up inside them, a tidal wave of emotion, and they each drowned in it.

"W-war?" said Jack, his vision smudging.

"Just go to sleep. I'll be with you soon."

Chase, in a blind drunkenness, reached towards the spirit and grabbed his shoulder, digging his claws into the muscled flesh.

"What is… what… what happening… us?" he slurred.

War finally opened his eyes and let his power show.

There would be warring tonight.

Chase, in a heated stupor, held onto Jack, as though releasing him to the call of War would send him spiralling into a dark place. Jack held on, just as tightly, just as fiercely. All they felt was a scolding hotness, polluting their visions, minds clouded in anger, hate, uncertainty, followed by sadness, then content, but the most prevalent emotion was a heavy, blanketing anticipation. And to soothe the dragon-esque heat, they would require... what was it?

Oh right. Satisfaction. To obtain that slipping satisfaction, Chase's lips melted swiftly into Jack's, devouring him. That was enough.

For now...

* * *

**This part of the Chapter will be divided into 3 or 4 parts. Oh, and special thanks to those who have reviewed and faved. It means alot, so thank you guys! ** **I'll try not to be so irregular with the updating next time. Please, for the love of God, review. Tell me what's right and wrong. This chapter was difficult. ;(**


	6. Chapter 5 part 2

Jack waded through a steady stream wondering where he was. His thoughts were suddenly jumbled in a schizophrenic pattern of echoing notes, and a heavy aura of white surrounded his persona. The water swished beneath his boots, making the red-head uncomfortable. He sighed. Where the hell was dry land? It was a stream, for Christ's sake! The stream glittered and sparkled much like a diamond, and as Jack peered into the flowing water beside his feet, he noticed glinting crystals twinkling under the dirt. Bending down, further soaking his pants and boots, he dug one up and held it in the palm of his hand.

"Beautiful." He gasped.

"I know, isn't it?" said an unknown voice. The voice flitted around his ears, head-turning and symphonic with jokery, until he turned westward and saw a boy no taller than himself sitting in a large tree with a mocking, dastardly grin.

"I wouldn't place much value in those if I were you. More fragile than porcelain. I wonder how much I can expect from you, though. You're disgustingly human, and you reek of life. If I were the Red, I'd get my steed to chomp you off piece by piece."

"Hey!" Jack said indignantly. "What makes you think you know me that well? I have a name."

"So do I, and yet I don't care about either of them. What I care about is why you're here, and not with the Red. Have you given up already? Surely you know the Red loves a good fight."

"Shut up!" said Jack, slightly. His figured tensed, a well coiled snake, and then he exhaled. "I'm trying." He muttered pathetically.

"You are not trying hard enough."

"I haven't really come to grips with this yet."

"And do you think he cares about that? At all? You are some kind of naïve."

"Oh, screw you already. I don't even know you."

"You don't need to. What you need to know is how to keep yourself."

"How to keep myself? I'm plenty defensive around him. Are you saying I need more than that?"

"Precisely. Hey, you're not so useless after all." the boy praised. Jack took him in, really, truly looked at him, and he realized something not-so-human about him. Apparently being around Chase so long, and then War, had given him a sort of sixth sense for these things. Right now, his sixth sense tingled like a well-oiled bell in his ears.

Why couldn't anything be simple?

"Most of it is your fault, actually. You were never simple in the first place."

Jack couldn't argue with that.

"Right now, you are skating on very thin ice with him. He's grown impatient."

Jack gazed at the boy incredulously. "Wha-what-_already_? We met a day ago! How the HELL could he be _impatient_?" Jack felt his anger come to him in a pinpricks and waves alike, sending him spiraling into a cavern chilled cold with rage. To prevent the current from taking him, he squatted low on the ground, pinched the bridge of his nose and counted to ten.

Shortly after, with his head still bent, he plucked up enough control to ask, "Just where the hell am I?"

"Where do you think?" he smirked, and Jack could feel a sudden headache coming on.

"Can you not be difficult?"

"Can you not be clueless?" he smirked again. Jack looked around and about himself, saw the trees perfect and unwilling to wilt, the greenery becoming more intense. Reds were redder, blues were bluer, yellows shown like lightning. In the most imaginative and lucid parts of his subconscious, he wondered if this was the Garden of Eden.

"Eden? Maybe. But where is Eden? What is Eden? _Why _is Eden? These are the things you should know. Honestly." The boy said with a flick of his wrist. He jumped down from the tree he was in. Approaching Jack, he placed a hand on his shoulder.

There was something so damn different about this one… what was it?

* * *

Chase found himself amongst the solid tears of the horizon, noticing the frowning sky, graying further into a murderous black. The rain poured down on him, dampening his clothes and plastering his jet-black locks on his back. He'd felt a pull, a tug at his heartstrings, surprisingly, as though someone were asking him to help them. Chase, ruthless ruler that he is, shrugged it off as nothing more than mild paranoia. Really. He had other, more pressing matters to attend to, such as finding out where the hell he was. The shrubbery and plant life screamed of health and good tidings, and it made Chase somewhat sick.

"Jack!" he called out. Sad he always had to go looking for the boy. Either way, Jack was moving further and further away from him.

He pulled more shrubbery out of his way, and the long, troublesome branches of bark only annoyed him further. Where was the Xiaolin Temple? The monks? Where was that bastard horseman? When he got out of this, War would have hell to pay. Chase gritted his teeth as his face set into an irremovable mask of irritation.

…_I know where he is… I can help you find him… _uttered a voice in Chase's mind. It was masculine and joking. Who was it?

"How?" he answered, not feeling the least bit foolish.

…_Follow me…_

"If you haven't noticed—"

…_Follow the sound of my voice… I will lead you to him…_

"Where am I?"

…_God, you're worse than _him_… Just shut up and follow me, damn it…_

Chase was suddenly propelled against his will on both feet by that same strange tugging in his mind, and he willed his body forward.

* * *

The boy smiled genuinely as Jack looked up from his confused thoughts. So far it was working; he could sense the metaphorical puzzle pieces coming together in Jack's mind as the dots connected. He had much to teach him about Red; he was the only one besides the First who knew him intimately. Well, as intimately as anyone could know War.

Jack suddenly asked, "Why is everything so confusing?"

"Maybe you're just out of your mind. . ." the boy replied.

Jack chuckled. "Okay, dude, enough with the Avril Lavigne. But seriously though, _why?_"

"If I knew the answer to that…" the boy trailed off. "So, what do you know about him, anyway?"

"I know fighting helps him get off."

"Don't be so vulgar." The boy chastised disgustedly.

"I can't say it any other way. I know he's 'passion incarnate.'"

"Passion. God, how I love _passion. It runs through his veins, it seasons his blood. Watch its running streams." _

Jack lay back on the ground watching the sky kaleidoscope into different quilts of color, noticing each new hue had a tinge of darkness about it. It was a faint tinge of 'there's-a-storm-a' brewin'!' coupled with the smell of sweet peaches. Jack, somehow, knew the storm would not commence, knew the seas would not still, knew damn well that even time would not stop—the world would not stop—unless he said so.

He suddenly sat up, and said, "I may not know where we are, but we are around War."

"War is everywhere, child. What do you expect?"

Jack, in a hurried flourish, got on his feet, felt that buzzing in his fingertips and the world _spun_ like a ballerina on the final leap, her pint tutu aflame with height and weightlessness and air, and goddamn, Jack _swore_ he was the ballerina, a dancer so graceful like a silent take off into open air.

"He's—he's here! Oh, god, he's here. He's been here and he knows this place!"

The boy smiled. "Jack, evil boy genius, strikes again."

"You're damn right he does! Where is that guy? He's a spirit, right?"

"He's _everywhere._" _Especially here, _he added on silently.

* * *

Chase felt that early-morning feeling where everything is fresh and new and crisp, untampered with; full on, crystalline purity and translucent sugar sweetness that comes with turning to your lover on a Saturday morning and saying 'hello, my love.' Did it shake him to his very core? Did it both light him like a match in the hottest July of the century with the Atlantic full of gasoline, and soothe the ache of lustful satisfaction with an Aloe-Vera soft caress?

Yes. Yes, yes, and _yes._ But he would never admit that out loud.

He knew he was getting closer to Jack, closer to red-hair and black over-coats and startlingly bright smiles whenever a good job was done and the tell-tale smirk of when the genius part of Jack Spicer _finally_ kicked in.

…_Almost there…_

"I know."

…_You are very important to him, you know that… I'd say he fancies you. But you have to hold him down…_

"_I know."_

Chase felt slightly crazy from all of this telepathy. When you were him, you knew insanity. You tasted it on the tip of your tongue, you felt it swirling in your mouth until it was time to spit it out and move on with your life. But there was no possible way he could evade this stranger without losing track of his young pupil. So the crazy feeling was worth it.

He passed a river of sparkling gems and flowers just seemed to bloom as he passed. Straight ahead, he could make out shapes. Blobs of moving gelatin, without form or purpose. And they were talking.

"—Here! Where the hell—"

"You—understand—no, you—"

They sound like they were underwater. His head felt so much lighter, though.

"Stoopp. Stop, just—stop. Who are you?" he slurred.

…_You're here…_

And the voice suddenly filled with new life and prolonged vigor as it said, "'Bout time you got here. What was taking so long?"

Jack, now at attention to a man in the bush, suddenly gasped and ran towards him, "Chase! Shit! Where. The. HELL. Were. You?"

Chase visibly recoiled from Jack's relieved embrace and said, "the hell if I know. I wish to leave here, and when I find that stupid horseman, his hide shall be skinned and decorating my bedroom floor."

The boy came to them both and drugged them to his tree.

"It was you." said Chase.

"Of course. Jack-y, dear that he is, needed you." He smirked, pointing to Jack, who was considerably in awe.

"We need to talk." Said Jack, picking up his jaw off the ground and crossing his arms .

The boy looked on curiously for an unknown moment before replying, "About Red. Right?"

"Yes. There's a hell of a lot you're not telling me."

The boy paced defiantly around him before responding, "There's a hell of a lot you want to know. But how can I even start? How can I possibly tell you War is more than what he seems?"

"Pardon?" asked Chase.

"How can I possibly say," the boy continued, "that War the is thing of nightmares, and not because of his lust for battle and victory? How can I tell you that War, first and foremost, wanted to be a King?"

"Stop. Expand on that and stretch it out in the most delicate and understandable terms you can muster. Take me through this. What are you trying to say? I've made an acquaintance out of you; I won't let you go so easily." Jack commanded, placing a hand on his shoulder.

The boy looked up at them both, pain etched and tattooed on his pleasant features and silently whispered, "War is more than pain and blood and sweat and battle. War is… Want. He just wants."

"What? Wants what?"

Another whisper, and then, "Everything. Out of us. Out of his Avatars. Out of _you._"

* * *

**Dear readers, I apologize for my lateness and making you wait. My computer broke down and my goddamn internet was off (now ain't that a bitch), so it took me a few days to get this chapter together. Please: Forgive me, read, and dear God, review!**


End file.
